


Pumpkin Spice

by TheTeaDetective



Category: Elementary (TV)
Genre: F/M, Pumpkin Spice Lattes, WARNING: Some swearing from Jamie, also jamie secretly likes a psl, also this is actually fluffier than I thought it would be, and will lie and says she doesn't, autumn prompts, don't fight me about this I'm right
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 12:03:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20835158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTeaDetective/pseuds/TheTeaDetective
Summary: In which Jamie is secretive about her drink order, and Sherlock finds out by accident anyway.





	Pumpkin Spice

**Author's Note:**

> This was borne out of a conversation I had with Leafenclaw, and has taken me longer to write than I thought it would.
> 
> I've read and revised this a few times, but if I've missed any typos, please let me know, because I currently have a sick bug, and I'm not 100% with it at the moment. So I could have missed some.

It was bloody risky, and she knew it. It was just a bit too close to the 11th Precinct, but she hadn’t known that the first time she’d visited. Or at least she had, it just wasn’t something that needed to be a concern. It had been before Sherlock after all. There were other places she could have gone, but it was the only place that got it just _right_.

The coffee shop was quite a pleasant one too, with squashy sofas and chairs, and local art work dotted around the walls. In times when there weren’t warrants out for her arrest or when she wasn’t supposed to be dead, Jamie would have ordered her drink to sit in, so she could sit and sketch. But not today, that would have been too risky. She’d have to sketch in the car that was waiting to whisk her away outside. Dull.

She wished the barista would hurry up. It was bad enough that she liked the damn drink, but if it meant she ended up getting caught…Well, that would be mortifying. Jamie’s phone pinged in her pocket. She took it out, and looked at the notification that had appeared. _Shit. _

Her hand shot to the top of her head and threaded through her hair. "Hey barista guy!" she called in her affected American accent.

"My name is Gary ma’am", he drawled, looking up at her with a bored expression on his face. He tapped his name badge twice.

Jamie reluctantly plastered a grin on her face and lent forward on the counter slightly. "Gary! I’m sorry, is my drink nearly ready?"

The barista sighed dramatically; Jamie felt the urge to punch him.

"You can’t rush art", he said snidely.

She _really_ felt like punching him. Instead she put on her best flirty, bubbly American girl act. Resting her hand on her chin she said, "No I guess not, but I’m kinda in a rush, places to be. I would be _very _grateful if it was ready, say now?"

He stared at her, "But I need to do the foam art. It’s a pumpkin."

_A pumpkin. Jesus Christ. "_I don’t mind, it’s to go anyway," she replied cheerfully.

"Uh sure, hang on."

No time to hang on, she lent back from the counter and looked at the door.

Another text. _‘Boss, what do you want me to do?’_

Her fingers darted over the keyboard on her phone quickly. _‘Do nothing. Just wait’._ ‘Gary’ was pouring her drink into a cup and putting the lid on. Maybe it would be OK.

The door to the coffee shop opened suddenly. Jamie glanced backwards in time to see Sherlock freezing as it swung to a close behind him.

"Pumpkin Spice Latte for Jamie O’Hara!" the barista called behind her.

_Oh, shit, _Jamie thought.

* * *

Surprisingly, or perhaps _not_ surprisingly, Sherlock did not spring into action the minute he snapped out of his shock at seeing her. Instead, Jamie found herself sitting in a booth with him. Gary the barista grumbled at this ("_But you ordered to go")_, but one furious glance from her silenced him very quickly.

Sherlock was somewhat amused.

"Didn’t take you to be a Pumpkin Spice kind of person."

Jamie glared furiously at him.

"Do you like Uggs as well?" He grinned at her.

She looked at him with suspicion, and then laughed. "You don’t know what those are Sherlock."

He looked sheepish for a moment. "I confess I don’t. I only know what a Pumpkin Spice Latte is because I was subjected to one of Cassie’s rants about it once. I honestly don’t know why one would need to be angry about coffee, but there you go."

"What are you doing here Sherlock?"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "I could ask you the same thing as, you know, you are supposed to be dead."

"You knew I wasn’t," she said, matter-of-factly.

"Not the point, I live in New York, you don’t."

"Know that for certain, do you?"

The look on his face tells her he doesn’t.

"I’m here to get coffee for Watson, we’re in the middle of a case and the coffee at the 11th is, well much to be desired," he said, in answer to her question.

Jamie pulled a face; she remembered the precinct coffee from her previous visits. It was foul. She really couldn’t blame Joan for wanting something better.

"Why are you here?" Sherlock persisted again.

"What’s the case?" she said brightly, in a valiant attempt at ignoring him.

"It involves a giant rat and a bag of stolen garnets from Sumatra, but you’re trying to change the subject. Why are you here? And don’t lie to me because I’ll know."

He hasn’t known before. She decided not to point this out to him, so instead she countered with, "I’d rather talk about the case, it sounds _fascinating_."

"I’ll tell you more about it if you tell me why you’re here."

Jamie considered him for a moment. He’s was staring at her with such a ferocity that it hurt to continue looking at him. Sherlock was being genuine of course, he would tell her more about the case, even though he probably shouldn’t.

"I’ll tell you why I am in this café, but I won’t tell you what I’m doing in New York," she said finally. He frowned at her. "You don’t need to worry about what I’m doing in New York", she added.

"I doubt that very much," he replied, with a slight smile.

He actually _really_ doesn’t need to worry about it, but she wasn’t going to explain the reason why to him. He could figure it out for himself if he was that bothered.

"Take it or leave it darling." Jamie wrapped her hands around her drink and then took a sip. _Oh, that’s very good. _

"All right," Sherlock said after a moment. He stared at her lips with a mesmerised look on his face. Her taking a sip of her drink had momentarily diverted his attention, which was purely unintentional of course.

"I like Pumpkin Spice Lattes," she answered. "Actually, I love them. I hate that I do, but I do, and this place does the best Pumpkin Spice in New York. That’s why I’m here right now. Well part of it anyway."

Jamie took a deep breath and glanced out of the window. It was windy outside and there were orange and red leaves swirling on the pavement. Sherlock watched her reproachfully. Not the type of answer he was looking for.

"It’s Kayden’s fault," she said suddenly.

Jamie turned to look at him, she’d surprised him again. His eyes had gone wide and his hand twitched on the table. Jamie got the sense that he was preventing himself from reaching out to touch her.

"I smelt them once while I was pregnant with her. Caused a craving that was so unbearable, I’d wake up at stupid times in the morning desperate for one," she explained, "caffeine free obviously."

"But you still drink them now?" he asked.

Jamie took another sip of her drink, if only so she didn’t have to look directly at him. She continued to look down at the lid when she was done. "I like them," she replied, her voice pressing a fierce insistence.

Sherlock made a humming noise that meant he didn’t believe that was the real reason why.

Jamie sighed. "All right. They remind me of Kayden. They remind me of the only prolonged period of time I had with her, because it’s _all _I have of her."

She looked up. Sherlock’s face could have been used for an artist’s study on concern. Jamie wondered how he was always so expressive and whether or not he realised it.

She waved a hand carelessly, dismissively. Even though she didn't really mean it. 

"It’s _fine_ Sherlock. Every Autumn I have a nice reminder of Kayden. It’s nostalgic, and besides, they really are delicious. You should try one and then you can join me on my endless spiral of cinnamon, nutmeg, and shame," she said, with false cheeriness.

Sherlock made a noise that was almost a laugh. "I’ll pass thank you. Now I believe you wanted to hear about my case?" he asked eagerly. He seemed to bounce a little on his seat as he said it. He was excited about this one.

Jamie did want to hear about the case, but her henchman outside chose that moment to text her in order to remind her that they were on a schedule, and that this stop was only supposed to be a brief one. She was also mindful that there was a high chance Joan might turn up, possibly accompanied by police. Probably either because Sherlock had secretly texted her under the table (and Jamie was about 90% certain that he had), or simply out of concern for why it had taken him so long to return to the station. Shame really.

"Perhaps another time darling, I really must fly", Jamie said.

Disappointment momentarily flickered across Sherlock’s face, but the detective recovered quickly. He reached across the table and grasped her wrist as she moved to leave the booth.

"Can’t let you leave. It’s been lovely seeing you, but you are a wanted criminal and I-"

Sherlock’s words were lost as Jamie seized his collar with her free hand and pulled him towards her, pressing her lips to his. He was much more receptive than she thought he might have been. Within moments, the grip on her wrist loosened, as Sherlock let go to cup her face. Just as suddenly as she had started it, Jamie was pulling back, and was standing up and out of the booth.

"Well," she said, a little breathlessly and with a touch of regret at having stopped, "now you know what Pumpkin Spice Lattes taste like."

And then she was gone, leaving Sherlock bewildered, and with the lingering taste of cinnamon and nutmeg on his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> I am also that person who pretends she hates a PSL but will secretly go and order one. I feel Jamie's pain. 
> 
> Also credit must be given to Leafenclaw for the idea that the reason why Jamie tried one in the first place was because of pregnancy cravings, because it was a genius idea, honestly.


End file.
